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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23844031">Bottom of the Trap</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nani_punani/pseuds/nani_punani'>nani_punani</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Thor (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beautiful Loki, Dangerous Loki, Gangbangers, High School, Jealous Thor, M/M, Obsession, dangerous thor, russian mob, thugs - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:00:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23844031</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nani_punani/pseuds/nani_punani</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Voicemail (1)<br/>(609)-247-5511                                     Friday<br/>Atlantic City, NJ                                      00:18</p><p> </p><p>  <i>I left last night. Honestly, I swear to you it’s because I just couldn’t take the idea of more physicality, more physical abuse on each other. Because had we continued it, it would have gotten f— bad. And baby, I told you this once.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>I’m scared to death we are a f— crime scene right now.<i></i></i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Loki/Thor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bottom of the Trap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>inspired by chew and swallow. setting is inspired by beach rats.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>I represent the H and the bottom of the map<br/>And I was born and raised in the bottom of the trap</em>
</p><p>My first year of high school I didn’t do jack shit. My second year, even less.</p><p>I spent most my time skipping school and hanging with upperclassmen. Most of the time we would go the nearest court to play ball or hit the boardwalk to scout out girls. We’d catcall at them between a lipfull of a joint or a blunt and sometimes if we were lucky we’d get to fuck them under the pier or finger them on the rollercoasters. We’d wrap an arm around them and stick a hand in their back pocket and our tongues down their throats and watch the Coney Island fireworks together everything sticky and wet and pure heat.</p><p>Sometimes the air was so loaded it couldn’t help but explode. Boyfriends would come around, and see their girlfriends wrapped around us like vines, and jaws would break. The fireworks were nothing compared to the stars that would explode behind my eyes when I got hit. And I got hit a lot of times. When it wasn’t boyfriends we were dealing with, it was some other punk ass kids looking for a fight. Ludovico’s uncle had it bad with Igor’s, so him and his crew would always start fights with us. Two straight years and my knuckles would always be shredded from beating on them bitches.</p><p>At the end of the night though, when the girls would go home with their boyfriends and the boardwalk would clean out and Ludovico’s gang would go home to lick at their wounds we’d dive into the ocean, just to feel the waves breaking across our backs. We’d let the salt clean out every hurt. The ocean was big and wide and hungry, just sucking us in, looking endless. It was nights like those where it felt nothing else existed.</p><p>Those first two years were a haze of smoke, girls laughing, and the ocean roaring my name.</p><p>I didn’t have a good rep. The fact that I didn’t try those first years didn’t help. Something about my appearance, the way I was built like a tank, or my eyes – people automatically assumed I was no good. That I had an attitude. Whenever I talked to seniors they thought I was picking a fight. Teachers thought I was trying to diss them. Cops thought I was trouble.</p><p>It wasn’t all a misunderstanding though. I hung out with a bad crew. A lot of second-gen eastern European kids, whose fathers were Albanian, or Russian, who’d been prisoners in the Gulag, who were foot soldiers for the Bratva, or had shady dealing with drugs. If we weren’t on the boardwalk, we were in one of Igor’s uncle’s clubs.</p><p>Igor’s uncle Alexei wasn’t a foot soldier. He was a big fish. He owned a lot of casinos and clubs on the Atlantic strip and because we were friends with Igor we had access to all of them. Shady dealings happened behind the dancefloor in the leather covered booths. Drugs were everywhere and easily accessible. Sometimes, on a bad day, you would even see a couple people dragged out to nowhere. Ludovic would push his luck too, come around to Igor’s club with his crew to party, just to pick a fight. It seemed like he was always chasing after us those days.</p><p>
  <em>It's white-T, Nikes, when I hit the club<br/>They say I can't get in cause I'm dress like a thug<br/>Fuck the dress code, we bout a hundred deep<br/>And they goin let us in, or get they ass beat</em>
</p><p>When junior year came around, I was neither panicked or apathetic. I just felt it was time to do what I had to do. It was time to stop fucking around. My older brother had taken the apathetic route. He had fucked around until the very end of his senior year. When he just barely managed to graduate, there were no other options for him, so he joined the army. He got blown up by an IED on his first tour in Iraq, and we never got all the pieces back. I wasn’t going to end up like my brother. So I grew out my hair and dropped my old friends.</p><p>I had a plan. I wasn’t stupid. If I studied, if I actually applied myself, I would do decent enough to make up for the last two years. I knew I could do good for sure on the SAT. My IQ was pretty high. They’d tried to put me in some accelerated program when I was in middle school but I got into too many fights and eventually got kicked out. My plan for junior year was solid.</p><p>
  <em>Keep your head down. Talk to nobody. Go to class, and then go home. Maybe get a part time job.</em>
</p><p>The first day of class I pulled up to an empty seat, put my headphones in and thought-</p><p>
  <em>Don’t bother me. Leave me alone. I’ll lie low, and I won’t care about anyone. I’ll just keep my mouth shut, stay out of trouble, and study.</em>
</p><p>And then somebody pulled out one of my headphones.</p><p>“Hey, you’re Thor Ivanov, right?” Green eyes glittered at him. “Why don’t you ever go drinking anymore? Igor’s been looking for you.”</p><p>I looked indifferently at the other boy. I’d seen him around before, at house parties.</p><p>
  <em>Loki Kriska.</em>
</p><p>“That’s not my scene anymore.” I replied blandly, hoping that would be the end of it.</p><p>It wasn’t.</p><p>Loki laughed incredulously. “Not your scene anymore? You really think you can drop Igor and his gang like that? You really think he’d let you?”</p><p>Loki’s bench mate spoke up. Domingo Solano.</p><p>“Whatcha gon’ do, Kriska? Ivanov says he’s going to college. He can’t hang with scum like that if he’s going to college.”</p><p>Loki whistled, impressed. “Going to college, huh? Damn.” He grinned ferally. “Got some balls to be dropping Igor like that.”</p><p>Loki flicked Dom’s forehead, which was currently down on the table.</p><p>“Dom’s the only kid I know in this class, but he sleeps all the time so I ain’t got jack to do.” Loki grinned. “Glad you’re around. Maybe you can save me from all this boring shit.”</p><p>Loki Kriska was the type of guy who caught your eye. Didn’t matter if you were a man or a woman. He was flashy and had an androgynous face. He was kind of a clown. He was always talking whenever I saw him. Seemed like he could never stop running his mouth. Always the center of some group of people, just yapping his mouth off, everybody laughing. He seemed like the type of thing that would die without attention. Like tinker bell. His hair was as black as ink, and he had eyes as green as sea glass, and an energy to him that got you caught up in his pace. Frankly, I’d always thought he had about the same value as a Christmas tree ornament.</p><p>But despite the way he looked, Loki was a total gangster. Hung out with some serious gulag goons.</p><p>I’d seen him at house parties before. At some of Igor’s uncle’s night clubs. Every time I went, he was there. He’d always hung around such trash that I assumed he was an idiot.</p><p>
  <em>Yeah, that’s what I thought…</em>
</p><p>In P.E., when we were supposed to be playing soccer, I sat down under a tree and closed my eyes, when I felt something cold touch my forehead. I blinked. It was Loki.</p><p>“Whatcha thinking about?” He asked me, a popsicle in his mouth, another in his hand for me.</p><p>I took the popsicle and unwrapped the cellophane, sticking it in my mouth.</p><p>“Nothing much.” I answered back.</p><p>“Thinking I’m an idiot, huh?”</p><p>
  <em>…but thinking back on it, he wasn’t that stupid.</em>
</p><p>I stared at him, slightly surprised, then looked away.</p><p>“Nah,” I replied honestly, “I’m thinking maybe Loki Kriska isn’t as dumb as I thought.”</p><p>Loki smirked. “I’m not that bad. Dom is the real idiot.”</p><p>That was how Loki and I got to know each other.</p><p>“You’re not going to play?” He asked me, leaning on an elbow.</p><p>“Too tired. P.E.’s not even a real class anyway.”</p><p>“Same. I was up all night at that new club Igor’s uncle opened up.”</p><p>“Igor.” Thor had snorted. “What else is new, right?”</p><p>Yeah, Loki wasn’t the idiot I thought he was. But maybe I was the idiot. Back then, I had no idea what was to come. I thought I was so fucking smart. So fucking arrogant. I thought my future was already set. I thought, <em>how can someone ever give a fuck about a Christmas ornament?</em> <em>They’re all shine and empty inside</em>. I had no idea that I would start to care about this damn Christmas ornament. I had no idea that I would come to break it in my hands.</p><p>
  <em>'I’m exhausted'</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'We’ve ruined so much'</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'I wish I could just fall apart'</em>
</p><p>No, back then -</p><p>Summer was on its last legs.</p><p>I was seventeen.</p><p>And I would never be seventeen again.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>She say she wanna<br/><br/>Thug from a, Thug from a, Thug<br/>Thug from a, Thug from a, Thug<br/>(I'm a) Thug from a, Thug from a, Thug</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i have no plans currently to make this an actual fic. if anyone does get inspired by this, then by all means, go ahead! i just have too many things on my plate rn to make it happen.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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